Guest Post – Allie Potts #amwriter #nanowrimo #humor #thestruggle

To all of you participating in NaNoWriMo, good luck! Thank you again, Kristin for hosting. Here’s to finishing those novels.

I missed the red moon arising

Sorry we missed you signSo apparently there was this whole blood moon, super moon, lunar eclipse thing, and I missed it. Not to worry, I will have another chance to see it again in (pulling out the calculator because I no longer do simple math in my head). 18 Years. (I mean I can, otherwise I might never escape the recurring hostage situation known as Kiddo’s homework time, I just prefer not to). That’s plenty of time for me to forget again.

I might have missed seeing the red moon rising, but I’ve noticed that things have been getting weird around my house ever since that event. For example, Lamont and I were getting ready for our second cup of coffee for the day when we heard an odd bubbling sound coming from the kitchen. The sound was coming from our trusted coffee maker and provider of wondrous mornings. The semi-full carafe was seated on its warming pad and I noticed a cloud as it coiled its way out of the machine and into the air. At first I thought it was steam. Only then did I get a whiff of burnt plastic and bad electronics. Lifting it up for better examination, I noticed the cloud was coming from the bottom of the machine where a metal plate read, “Do not submerge”

Yanking the cord out of the wall I presented the smouldering heap to Lamont. “The coffee maker is on fire,” I announced. I really wasn’t sure what to do at this point as I hadn’t yet drunk my second cup. (I am barely conversant in the morning. I definitely wasn’t prepared to problem solve.) Lamont turned on the faucet and started filling the sink. “But it says do not submerge,” I countered (this is why I married a ‘morning person.‘)

Evening came. Later. Much, much later, I was awoken by the sound of music playing in the house. At first I thought it was Lamont’s phone as it is not entirely unexpected that he might get a phone call in the wee hours of the morning due to his job, but the music continued well beyond a typical ringtone and Lamont wasn’t moving. Fine. First no coffee. Now no sleep. I hauled myself out of bed to investigate while Lamont pretended not to notice (and this one of the reasons why Lamont married a non-morning person).

Opening the bedroom door I was assaulted by They Might Be Giants blasting from across the hall. What in the world?! I opened Kiddo’s door. The clock display on his CD player was blinking. Not only had the alarm clock feature been enabled, someone (or something) had set it to trigger at a time long after midnight (ruling out a simple power outage reset). I glanced into the shadows of Kiddo’s bed. There he lay, sleeping as peacefully as if a minimum of 100db of alternative rock / children’s music wasn’t currently vibrating the room’s walls. At least I hoped he was sleeping.

As I located the off button, I noticed that Kiddo still hadn’t moved. I inched closer to his bed to determine whether he was either only pretending to still be asleep or if I needed to check his vital signs. I watched his chest rise and fall. At least he is alive, although if he was goofing around after lights out he might wish he wasn’t.

Sleep Wanted
Image Courtesy of Flickr

I returned to my bed with my imagination working overtime. Were aliens playing tricks on my family and testing our defenses? Did a being from an alternate dimension invade my home’s electrical grid during the eclipse? Has a poltergeist decided to get an early jump on the Halloween season? Are my beloved robotic overlords simply trying to modify my sleep cycle to make me a better me? (All hail, as they are just and know best).

I may not learn the answer anytime soon, and until then I may lay awake in self-induced paranoia, but one thing is for sure – Kiddo can sleep through anything. Note to self – ask him to guest write how he does it. But at least, I may have a few ideas for some short stories.



Coffee and Karma

Three am.

I was wide awake. I just couldn’t seem to find a comfortable enough position to sleep more than ten minutes at a time. I tossed and turned. Nothing seemed to work. Time passed during the wee hours of Saturday morning in fits and spurts. After hours which felt like years, I felt the bed shift as hubby got up for a pre-dawn run. Morning people… grumble, grumble…

Slightly after dawn, (I can’t tell you the specific time as the clock and I were no longer speaking, but it was early) I heard the sound of Kiddo moving around in his room across the hall. It didn’t matter if that I hadn’t gotten a good night’s sleep. Morning could no longer be denied. I exited the bedroom with a single mission in mind. Find coffee now.

Immediately Kiddo’s door swung open. “Mom! Mom! I need help!”

“With what?” I asked, although it probably sounded more along the lines of “gah! wha?”

“With my museum. Can you help me build it?”

Available on Amazon
Yup – This pretty much sums up my mornings. Too bad the kids are still learning to read. (Mug available on Amazon – Click to link)

I rubbed my eyes. It didn’t help the view. His LEGOs had turned the floor into a land field, and there, at the other side, was a partially built construction about the size of two loaves of bread. It would take hours to complete his ‘vision’. Run, my body urged me. Run, while there is still time. “Sorry kid, Mommy needs her coffee.”

I made my way downstairs. Kiddo followed. “I’m starving. Cereal please!”

At least he was trying to be polite. “Here you go,” I said, pouring him a bowl. Or did I say bah!?

“Then can you help me with the museum?”

“Mommy needs some time to wake up.” Darn you coffee pot, why are you still empty?

Thump. It was a sound that meant LT was not only up, but jettisoning toys from his bed. I could go upstairs and collect him at once or spend the rest of the day attempting to coordinate a clean-up process with a stubborn three-year-old. It was my decision.

“Milk!” LT greeted me while flinging another animal friend.

Sigh… I  carried him downstairs, placing him near his brother.

“Movie please!” they demanded in stereo. My tummy grumbled, the coffee pot remained dry, and the kids were on a fast track for early naps.

Ding. Ding. My phone chimed. You’ve got to be kidding! Who in the world is texting me at this hour?

“Am bringing home a bagel for you.” The unsolicited text was from the hubby extraordinaire and savior of offspring.

No act of kindness no matter how small is ever wasted – Aesop

I love that man every day, but some days even more so than others. Fortified, Kiddo and I completed his museum. It only took two hours. A new record! Huzzah.

Fast forward a couple of days. I saw another message from the hubby. Someone had placed a handwritten note on his windshield. “You’ve been RAK’d,” it said. Beneath the note lay twenty dollars. There were no strings attached and no name on the note. It was exactly what it said it was. a RAK, also known as a Random Act of Kindness.

Carry out a random act of kindness, with no expectation of reward, safe in the knowledge that one day someone might do the same for you – Princess Diana of Wales

Out of all the cars in the parking lot that morning, some individual had chosen to be generous with my family. We will never be able to pay that person back, so I guess we have no choice. We will have to pay it forward.

Thank you, note-leaver, whoever you are. I hope that your kindness is returned as swiftly as was my hubby’s.

Easy Random Acts of Kindness
background image courtesy of unsplash